Carolyn thought for a moment. “He didn’t actually mention the letter. He said, ‘I warned you to stay out of this. Now I have to kill you.’”
“That’s close enough,” Hank said. “It doesn’t mean he’s our killer, though, just the guy who sent you the letter.” He tossed a large black object through the open window. “One of the patrol units found your purse under a pickup in the parking lot. When are you going to start wearing your shoulder holster? Carrying your gun in your purse is worthless. You might as well not have one.”
“I’m a supervisor now,” Carolyn told him. “Unless someone goes on a shooting rampage in the office, I have no reason to protect myself.”
“Oh, I see,” Hank said, pissed. “Like you didn’t need a gun tonight. You could have shot him, Carolyn, and saved us from having to track him down. If you don’t start looking out for yourself, you’ll end up at the morgue with your friend.”
Carolyn put her hands over her ears. “Enough, for God’s sake!”
“Lay off, Hank,” Brad said. “She’s exhausted and emotional. I wouldn’t even have had my gun on me if I wasn’t taking it home to clean it.”
Hank told Carolyn to file a report with the patrol officer at the scene, then took off.
“He’s upset because he doesn’t want anything to happen to you,” Brad said as he drove her back to the parking lot.
When he stopped alongside the patrol unit, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for being there, Brad.”
“No problem.”
“By the way, why were you there?”
Brad laughed. “I forgot where I parked my car. Are you going straight home when you finish here?”
“Not yet,” Carolyn said. “Hank wants me to sniff out Drew, try to find out if he’s involved. I’m going to swing by the house, check out this young nanny he hired, and see if there’s any news regarding Jude.”
Brad shook his head in frustration. “You know why you’re always in trouble? Because you go looking for it. For all we know, Drew may be the one who attacked you tonight. Now you’re going to show up on his doorstep. How convenient. Jesus, Carolyn, go home. You can stop by Veronica’s tomorrow. I’ve never seen a woman push herself the way you do. Don’t you ever get any enjoyment out of life?”
“Whenever I can,” she said. “You risk your life all the time on the racetrack. At least I don’t do it for thrills.”
“If Drew kills you, don’t call me. I’m going out for drinks with my friends. I’d ask you to come along, but martyrs aren’t that popular.” He held up his cell phone. “I’m turning it off, see? You’re on your own.”
Carolyn chuckled. “How could I call you if I was dead?”
“You know what I meant. I saved your scrawny neck, and you’re making fun of me. If the guy had a gun, he could have shot me.”
“You’ll never grow up, Brad.”
“Whatever,” he said, burning rubber as he roared off across the parking lot.
A young patrol officer stepped up beside Carolyn. “I should cite that guy for speeding. He can’t drive like that on the street, let alone a parking lot.”
“Don’t waste your time.”
“Why? Because he’s your boss?”
“Because you’ll never catch him.”
“I’ve been in a pursuit with a Viper before,” he said. “They’re not that fast.”
Carolyn smiled. “You don’t know what’s under the hood of this one.”
Carolyn rang the doorbell for five minutes before someone finally answered. A young girl with long blond hair that covered the right side of her face peered out at her. She looked more like a child than an eighteen-year-old. “I’m a friend of the family,” Carolyn said. “You must be Crystal?”
“Drew isn’t here,” the girl said in a monotone. “He went to the grocery store. You’ll have to come back later.” She thought a moment, then added, “You should maybe call him. He told me he didn’t want to see anyone right now.”
“I’ll wait,” Carolyn said, stepping past her into the living room. Crystal was either learning impaired, or there was something else wrong with her. She didn’t make eye contact, and continued standing in the doorway after Carolyn was inside. When she dropped her arms to her side, her hands disappeared inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
The living room looked worse than it had the night before. Beer cans were still scattered across the coffee table, toys thrown everywhere, and there was a large purple stain on the carpet. Michael came running into the room crying. He attached himself to Carolyn’s leg. “My mommy went to heaven, and Daddy says Jude can’t live here anymore. Daddy got mad at me ’cause I spilled my grape juice.”
Carolyn scooped the four-year-old up in her arms. “It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t cry.” She turned around to look for Crystal. The girl was walking in the direction of the kitchen when she tripped on a toy fire engine. Instead of picking it up, she righted herself and continued walking. Some nanny, she thought. She looked as if she needed someone to look after her instead of the other way around. What in God’s name had Drew been thinking? “Is Jude here, Michael?”
“Yes,” he said, sniffling.
Carolyn sat down on the sofa and stroked Michael’s back until he climbed off her lap and went to play with a toy. The situation was tragic, but children were remarkably resilient. She saw a shadowy figure in the hallway. When she went over to see who it was, she realized it was Peter. He also looked as if he’d been crying. His chin was tucked against his chest. “Is Jude in her room?” she asked him.
Peter shrugged, refusing to answer. Carolyn continued down the hallway. She would have to talk to Drew about getting the kids into counseling right away.
Other than the room the boys shared, the doors were all shut. She opened the door to Jude’s room, then realized it was the bathroom. Veronica’s daughter was stepping out of the shower.
“Get the hell out of here!”
Carolyn gasped. Jude’s body was covered with purplish bruises. She grabbed a towel and covered herself.
“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” she said. “I thought you were one of the kids. If you can’t wait, use the bathroom in my dad’s room.”
Carolyn closed the door and locked it behind her. She reached over and pulled the towel away, trying to see how badly the girl was injured. “Who did this to you?”
“I fell, okay?” Jude told her, snatching the towel back. “Can I have some privacy, please? I don’t walk into your bathroom and stare at you when you’re naked. Are you a lesbian or something?”
“Please, honey, you need medical treatment. If you won’t tell me who did this to you, at least let me help you.”
“No one can help me,” Jude said, stepping into a pair of jeans and a black long sleeved T-shirt. “I have to be out of the house by the time my father gets back. Now will you leave me alone?”
“Where are you going to live?” Carolyn asked.
“On the street, I guess. What difference does it make? My mother’s dead. No one cares what I do, as long as I don’t do it here.”
“Stay with me,” Carolyn offered. “Please, Jude, I have